


Swing and a Miss

by mggislife2789



Category: Criminal Minds, Derek Morgan - Fandom, Spencer Reid - Fandom
Genre: Baseball, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-03-13
Packaged: 2018-10-04 06:19:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10270157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mggislife2789/pseuds/mggislife2789
Summary: Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters or their original stories. This is only for fun. It's where my brain goes after the credits roll. No copyright intended. Better safe than sorry. ;)





	

Swish.

“Dammit!” Spencer screamed, missing the ball Morgan threw at him for what felt like the 50th time. “Morgan I can’t do this! Can’t Y/N take my place!”

Unfortunately, you couldn’t. The FBI had a separate game for the women of the Bureau. When you originally heard that, the “ugh” emoji popped into your head, but whatever, point was, Spencer had to do this and he hated it. “No, she can’t. Take a breather and try again, kid. You’ll be fine.”

Standing next to Morgan, you did your best to keep Spencer calm, but every time he missed he became angrier. He was not a sports guy, but the guy who was supposed to be here just had a baby with his wife four days earlier. They desperately needed someone and Spencer owed Morgan a favor.

Swish.

“Fuck!” he screamed, eliciting a snort from you. He never cursed at work. Maybe in his own home, but that was about it. “I am horrible at this!” He pointed the bat towards Morgan and it practically fell out of his hand, as if to demonstrate just how inept he was at sports. He couldn’t even hold a bat correctly. As it fell from his hand, he picked it up and threw it into the fence behind him. “Morgan, I didn’t get into the academy because of my athletic prowess. As a matter of fact, they had to waive that so I could purely get in on my brain.” After missing the ball yet again, he fell to the ground in a pout, crossing his legs and arms like a two-year old.

Morgan was frustrated too. He knew this wasn’t Spencer’s thing, but they were desperate. “Kid, you can do this, you’re just getting into your own head!” he screamed from the pitcher’s mound. 

“Let me go talk to him,” you said. You knew exactly where Spencer was coming from. You too were brought into the academy based on your intelligence; athletics of any kind were not your thing. Thankfully, you were an amazing shot, so there was that. As you approached Spencer, he looked up at you exasperated. 

“Y/N, I can’t do this,” he said pitifully. You were hired by the Academy at the same time, so you became best friends almost immediately. “You know me. I’m not athletic. I want to do this. Morgan really wants me to. But I don’t want to disappoint him.”

“Breathe, Spence,” you replied, sitting down with your legs crossed directly across from him. When you craned your head back, Morgan looked confused. But there was a way to get through to Spencer, and you knew how to do it. “Morgan wants you to try your best. You do that. He’s not going to be disappointed. Win or lose. He loves you.” Spencer knew you were right, but being so bad just brought back all his horrible sports memories. All those times he was tortured by his peers.

Suddenly, Morgan called from across the field. “Just forget every bad sports memory you’ve ever had.”

“Agreed,” you said, pointing backward at Morgan. “Next time you get up. I want you to take a deep breath, in through your nose and out through your mouth. Then think, with this swing, I can throw every horrible thing that’s ever been said about me back in their faces.” 

It would be cathartic. He’d hit the ball, run around all the bases, and anyone that ever made fun of him for his lack of athletic prowess would be effectively told to screw off. “Okay, kid,” Morgan said as he ran up to both of you and kneeled at your side. “Don’t let anyone get in your head. It is just you and the ball. No one else exists. Especially not the people who made fun of you. They don’t exist.”

“I just don’t want to let you down,” he sighed as he pushed up off the floor. “I suck at this.”

“Do your best and you won’t let me down, kid,” he said, slapping him on the shoulder before running back to the pitcher’s mound.

“See, I told you so. Now, I know you like to base everything on facts, so here’s a few practical tips to use for hitting the ball,” you said, giving Morgan an indication that you needed another minute with Spencer.

Intently, he focused on every word you were saying. Not allowing his childhood doubt into his head was easier said than done, but facts he could handle. They were his constant. “For starters,” you said. “When Morgan starts throwing, you tend to look at him. Don’t. Look at the ball. Second, you tend to splay your arms out when you hold the bat.” You demonstrated what you meant before coming up behind him and placing his arms in the correct position. “Third, you want one foot in front and one in back, not next to each other. Keep the majority of your weight on your back leg. And finally, just like Hotch said when it comes to shooting. Follow through.”

“Okay,” he sighed. “I might be able to do this.” Not full-on confidence, but you were working on it. Baby steps. No one needed him to be an athlete - just make it through one game. As you walked back to the mound next to Morgan, you continued to tell Spencer to breathe.

“Ready?” Morgan asked, throwing the ball he was holding up in the air over and over again. “Forget the bad.”

With that, Morgan reeled back, throwing the ball in Spencer’s direction. This time, he kept his eye on the ball and through some miracle, he was able to clip the ball and send it bouncing between first and second base. “See!” you said, hopping up and down in excitement. “You can hit it! Just continue to do what I told you and you’ll make it through this game, I promise!”

While you cheered Spencer on, clapping much more wildly than was necessary for this moment, Morgan ran back to grab the ball. You felt a buzzing in your pocket. It was Hotch. “Do we have a case?” Spencer asked hopefully.

“Yup,” you said, turning around to Morgan. “Hotch needs us.”

“You get a reprieve, kid,” he said, running past Spencer and back toward the Bureau. “But don’t think I’m done with you yet.”


End file.
